Page 90 of Avery's Hero

As if it’s all decided, Brock says, “Good, then I’ll come after I drop Linc off.”

Forcing myself to step back, I turn and pick up my keys. “Hey. Don’t be surprised if Gunnar is a bit rough around the edges. Prison changed him.”

Brock gives a dismissive wave. “I’ve got my share of rough friends, and not like I’m a specimen of good behavior. I’m not concerned.”

“Well, I hope you two will be friends. It will be much easier that way.”

He smacks my ass playfully. “Don’t let that brain of yours concoct any scary what ifs. Okay?”

I groan and rub my butt cheek. His big hand stung me through my thin cotton skirt leaving a delicious mark. “You know me…”

He turns me toward the door and pushes me gently along. “Go. Don’t be late. If you stick around here any longer, I might have to find out what you’ve got on under that skirt.”

I laugh, as I take off out the door.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

My belly is full and my heart is so happy it hurts when Gunnar and I climb the steps to the apartment.

There’s a light on inside.

Silly, but that little fact makes my chest constrict. Brock left the light on for me when he closed up. The man thinks of everything.

As I unlock the door, I make a joke. “Drumroll.”

I push open the door and let my brother walk in. A flutter of nerves fill my throat as I watch him look around. “Wow. Sick pad.” Gunnar tosses his backpack on one of the kitchen chairs and strolls into the living room. “Whoever this guy is, he’s got some seriously dope rental property.”

“Dope? I don’t ever remember you saying that before.”

He chuckles. “I’ll spare you from the other things I picked up.”

I stand pensively in the kitchen as he strolls through the whole apartment. He whistles when he sees the bed in my room. “Mr. Bankroll is serious about you, chica.”

“Whatever.”

He opens the fridge, grabs a beer that I didn’t know was in there. Brock.Again. He thought of everything.

Gunnar twists the cap and flicks it toward the trash can. “Fuck. It feels good to be able to drink whatever I want.”

He passes one to me. When he holds his beer toward me, we clink our bottles. His eyes are tired, but dancing when he says, “To new beginnings and getting laid, which obviously, you’re doing. And maybe I’ll be able to do before long.”

“Guess you’ve had a dry spell,” I say apologetically.

He smirks, takes a slug off his beer, then eyes me. “Shit, remember that girl I was dating when I got arrested? Dating is a loose term, of course.”

I search for a polite term and fail. “She was?—”

“A fucking basketcase.”

I make a frumpy sound. “She was a uniform chaser…”

There’s bitterness in his voice when he says, “Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Sipping my beer, I look closely at my brother. He’s changed so much physically. He was always an outstanding athlete, top at everything he did. Now he looks meanandhard. There’s an edge to him that’s difficult to put words around.

“I think I’ll turn in,” Gunnar says suddenly, “I can’t wait to get in a good bed."

“Oh. Okay. The hallway to the left, that’s your room.”

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